


You're so Fine You Blow my Mind (Hey, Mickey!)

by princessmickey



Series: Hey Mickey! [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Clothed Sex, Ian calls him 'princess' one time y'all, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Praise Kink, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Slight feminization, Summer Sex, Sweat, crossdressing (ish)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:08:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22479187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmickey/pseuds/princessmickey
Summary: Chicago's in the middle of it's nastiest heatwave of the decade, and of course there's a fucking blackout. Ian get's sent home from work early due to high labor and a low volume of emergency dispatches. Intent on surprising his husband, Ian lets himself quietly into their apartment. However, it's Ian himself that is in for a surprise.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Hey Mickey! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625089
Comments: 24
Kudos: 300





	You're so Fine You Blow my Mind (Hey, Mickey!)

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all I seriously can't get Mickey's 7x11 look out of my head.  
> It gave me ideas.  
> So I wrote porn to cope. Sue me.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Title obviously taken from Hey Mickey by Toni Basil.

Ian let out a frustrated huff as he kicked the apartment door shut behind him, practically tearing off his uniform shirt to toss it haphazardly onto the couch.

It was fucking _hot_.

Chicago was in the middle of yet another summer blackout, in the middle of a fucking _heatwave_ , and the Southside was of course the last on the list to get their power back on.

With people staying in doors, there wasn't much work for Ian, so he was sent home early.

Not that his and Mickey's apartment was any fucking cooler than the hundred and four degree day outside. It was like a fucking oven.

"Mick?" He called out, looking through the apartment for his husband.

It was Mickey's day off, and Ian was positive the man wouldn't dare be out in this heat for any reason whatsoever.

That's when the sound of soft humming from the bedroom down the hall reached his ears. Ian smirked and tiptoed as quietly as he could, pushing the door open gently so it didn't creak and alert the other man.

Ian's intentions weren't pure to begin with, as he had planned to scare the lights out of his husband, but the sight he was greeted with upon peeking in the room solidified his impure intent.

There was Mickey, bathed in afternoon light from the open window above the bed. He lay on his stomach, flipping through a magazine while humming along to whatever music was flowing out of the earbuds he had in. He kicked his feet idly, flipping a crinkly page, completely unaware of Ian in the doorway.

That's not what had Ian's palms sweating or his trousers impossibly tight.

No. It was what Mickey was wearing that made Ian nearly swallow his fucking tongue.

There Mickey lay, pretty as a picture, in a _dress_.

That's right. A _fucking_ _dress_.

A very _pretty_ dress, in Ian's opinion.

It was simple, pale blue cotton with spaghetti straps, about knee length with little white embroidered flowers along the hem. It was pretty.

 _Mickey_ was fucking pretty.

Ian must have let out some unbidden, ungodly sound because Mickey removed his earbuds and whipped around, eyes wide as he made an abortive attempt to sit up, scrambling.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ian!" He screeched, clutching at his chest like an old dame. "You scared the fuckin' shit outta me, you fuckin' asshole. Fuck. Just fuckin' come in next time instead of standing there like my fuckin' sleep paralysis demon would ya? Shit."

Ian watched as Mickey sat up and ran a hand through his hair, chest rising and falling quickly with diminishing fright, but all he could really focus on was the low cut of the blue cotton and how it exposed Mickey's chest.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by the snapping of fingers and he blinked rapidly, eyebrows raising.

"Huh?" He asked dumbly, mouth suddenly dry.

"I asked you what the fuck you're doin' home so early, firecrotch." Mickey grumbled, reaching for the smokes on the windowsill, popping one between his lips to light it and take a long, slow drag as he settled with his back against the wall.

Ian leaned against the doorjamb and couldn't help the way his eyes trailed up Mickey's pale thighs, half covered by the pale blue fabric. "I, uh, got sent home because of the power outage. Not many people doing stupid shit in the heat, not many emergencies. Couple of heat strokes but we were overstaffed and Rita loves me, so," he shrugged, rambling absentmindedly in his distracted state.

"You, uh, you do know you're wearing a dress right?" Ian asked, unsure of just exactly how to approach the topic, or if Mickey even wanted him to. Mickey snorted and raised his eyebrows, taking another drag, exhaling slowly as he eyed Ian steadily.

"So?" Mickey shrugged.

"I mean, it's-,"

"It's hot as absolute _fuck_ , is what it is," Mickey ran a hand through his hair again, a nervous habit.

He hadn't expected Ian to be home so early.

"I picked up the habit in Mexico okay? They're an easy disguise. They're breezy. It's a hundred and four fuckin' degrees. It's too hot to even be alive right now. So I'm wearin' a fuckin' dress. It ain't nothin' you haven't seen before." Mickey fixed him with that challenging look he got when he felt uncomfortable, or embarrassed and had to prove himself somehow.

Ian didn't want that.

He shook his head, looking at Mickey with big, puppy eyes as he bit his lip and smirked, a look he knew Mickey couldn't resist. An olive branch, if you will. "Wasn't gonna say anything about it. You just, you look real pretty in it, is all."

Ian could see Mickey visibly deflate at the words, all worry and tension leaving him to be replaced by his usual teasing, cocky demeanor as Mickey licked his lips and smirked right back up at him from his spot on the bed.

"Oh yeah?" He breathed, looking up at Ian through his lashes as one hand trailed down to fiddle idly with the hem of the dress. "This old thing?"

Ian nodded, shifting.

Mickey's smile sharpened, turned hot and predatory and Ian could literally see his husband's eyes darken in that moment. It sent a hot thrill down his spine to see Mickey absolutely owning his sexuality like he did. It was the hottest thing ever in Ian's book.

"This is really doin' it for you, huh, tough guy?" Mickey breathed, snubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill.

Ian swallowed hard and nodded again, waiting for Mickey to make the first move, seeing as he somehow had all the power here in this moment between them, laid out like a fucking four course meal on their bed while Ian stood, hard and hungry in the doorway of their bedroom.

Yeah. Mickey was calling the shots today.

The brunette raised one knee slowly, eyes never leaving Ian's, showing off that he was wearing _only_ that pretty little dress.

Oh fuck. Ian couldn't fucking breathe.

"C'mere," Mickey breathed and practically crawled across the bed to sit at the edge of his, bare legs dangling off the side, blue fabric stretched high and tight across his thighs as he held out a hand to beckon his lover closer.

Ian was convinced that he'd somehow died and this was heaven. That was the only explanation for all of this. He wordlessly stepped into the room and sunk to the floor between the other mans thighs, looking up at him pleadingly, desperate to touch and taste and take.

But he kept his hands firmly by his sides until Mickey reached down and picked them up, gingerly placing them on his thighs. " _Touch_ _me_ ," Mickey demanded softly, letting go of Ian's hands to sink his own into Ian's hair.

Ian did not need to be told twice. He watched as his own shaking hands trailed up Mickey's thighs, pushing the baby blue cotton higher and higher to reveal more pale, perfect skin. His hands finally reached Mickey's hips, thick and perfect, and he squeezed.

Mickey let out a soft, shuddering sigh and tugged Ian's face up, crashing their mouths together.

Ian jerked him forward until Mickey's thighs were wrapped tightly around his middle, and Ian's hands were trailing back to palm that perfect ass underneath the dress.

Mickey moaned and broke away, hips jerking forward to press himself against Ian's abdomen and then back into his big, perfect fucking hands. "Fuck," he whined, biting his lip, already panting. Gagging for it.

"Yeah?" Ian breathed, leaning forward to lick a stripe up the center of Mickey's exposed chest. "You like looking pretty for me baby?"

Mickey's fingers just tightened in Ian's hair, keeping him close to his chest and he let out a sound like he got punched in the chest instead of kissed there.

Ian took the hint and reached up to push one of the straps off Mickey's shoulder, dipping down to drag his tongue across Mickey's now exposed nipple.

Mickey shook, thighs trembling around Ian's midsection as he tugged sharply on his hair and Ian groaned against his chest.

"Fuck, Ian. Fuck," Mickey whispered, breathless and sweet above him and Ian surged up to claim his mouth in a slow, filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth.

"Wanna taste you Mick. Get my tongue in you," Ian breathed into the kiss, begging into Mickey's mouth while he knelt there between his legs. "Please, baby? Lemme make you feel good."

Mickey could only nod, tongue reaching out to flick against Ian's lower lip in answer as if to say 'please, yes, _please_.'

Ian just shoved him down to the bed with a hand on his chest, grabbing him round the thighs to tug him forward til his ass was just barely at the edge. He gripped the backs of Mickey's the roughly, shoving them up and out to expose him as Ian licked a firm, slow stripe from tailbone to taint, making Mickey shiver and clench, whining.

"Oh fuck, fuck, God, please," Ian heard from above, an endless stream of whispered pleas and profanities as he got right to it, licking Mickey open with broad, firm strokes of his tongue.

When his lover softened and opened up for him, Ian dipped his tongue into him, swirling it around to trace Mickey's rim. He ate him out until Mickey suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him away.

"Can't. Fuck, I'm gonna come if you don't stop right fuckin' now," Mickey shook his head violently, eyes shut tightly.

Ian shushed him softly, soothing him with gentle kisses to the backs of his shaking thighs.

"What is it, angel? Tell me what you want." Ian breathed against his soft, sweat damp skin. He pulled away to look at Mickey and the sight alone nearly had him coming in his pants.

Mickey was a fucking wreck.

His dress was hiked up nearly to his chest to expose his sweet little dick, lying hard and leaking against his heaving, twitching stomach. His pretty hole was visibly slick with Ian's spit. Mickey's chest and neck and cheeks were flushed pink and his blue eyes were blown almost completely black as he stared down the length of his body at Ian, propped up on his elbows.

Mickey was shaking all over, a fine tremor that Ian could almost swear he felt in the floor beneath them.

"Please," Mickey whined, lower lip visibly trembling now. Fuck, he was about to start /crying/ for it if he had to. "Just fuck me, please," he whispered, jaw tight.

How could Ian say no to that?

To his sweet, pretty boy, all laid out and begging for him?

He nodded, scrambling to get the lube from the drawer as Mickey scrambled backwards to make room for him on the bed.

Ian crawled up between his lovers parted thighs once he'd found what he was looking for.

Mickey just settled beneath him, thighs falling open around Ian's hips as he looked up at the man with big, blue eyes and that sweet Cupid's bow of a mouth. God he was so fucking beautiful.

"Hi," Ian breathed, sweet and soft, as he smiled down at the man beneath him.

"Hey," Mickey answered, biting his lip, grinning.

"You really do look so fucking good like this, Mick," Ian whispered, dipping his head to brush his nose along Mickey's gently. "So pretty."

"Yeah?" Mickey grinned, hands coming up to comb through Ian's hair. "How pretty?" He teased.

"Prettiest thing I've ever seen," Ian promised, dipping low to kiss Mickey's lips gently, letting it simmer over into something heated and deep until they were both breathing hard, writhing against one another.

"Ian," Mickey groaned into his mouth, tugging hard at his hair. "Please."

"Shhhh, baby," Ian whispered, lubing up his fingers while he distracted Mickey with a few well placed kissed beneath his jaw. He easily slipped two into his lover, causing Mickey's breath to stutter and his head to fall back, bearing himself more to Ian.

Ian sucked a bruise onto the juncture of Mickey's neck and shoulder as he opened him slowly on two, three, then four fingers. He was always amazed at how easily Mickey's body opened up to him, whatever have gave it, like it was begging him for more all the time, always wanting more and more of Ian.

He kept opening him up until Mickey was meeting every thrust of his fingers with a roll of his hips, trying to get them deeper. His pretty boy was moaning and writhing beneath him, covered now in a thin sheen of sweat just as Ian was.

Technically they were both fully dressed still, Ian only sans shirt, still wearing his tank and cargo pants.

Hell, he even had his fucking boots on, too caught up in Mickey's gorgeous fucking body to even bother getting undressed.

"Now," Mickey demanded, clutching desperately at the back of Ian's tank as he undulated beneath him, panting and gasping. "Fuck Ian, please. Please fuck me? I've been so good, just give it to me. Please?"

Oh, fuck. That was like a punch to the gut for Ian.

He'd never heard Mickey beg so sweetly for something. He was being so _good_.

"God, Mick," Ian breathed into his ear as he slowly, ever so slowly, withdrew his fingers from Mickey's tight heat. "Baby. You've been so fucking good for me. Of course you can have it, princess."

Mickey made a desperate, keening sound at that, fingers digging into the toned flesh of Ian's back. He looked up at him, cheeks impossibly red, mouth open in shock and awe and desperate desire.

Oh? Oh, shit. Ian had never called him anything like that before but judging by his reaction Mickey was absolutely living for it.

"I got you," Ian whispered, pecking his lips sweetly as he reached down to unzip his fly and grasp himself, spreading the leftover lube over his cock before he lined himself up and began to press in ever so slowly, like Mickey was a sweet little virgin he was taking his time with.

It was intoxicating.

Mickey just whined and shook, going limp and boneless beneath him as he let Ian in, unable to do anything but take what he was given.

It was no secret that Mickey loved that first initial push, the stretch and burn of it, the way he opened up for Ian so well, like he was made for it.

Once Ian was completely seated he stilled, taking a moment to look down and admire Mickey, who took his own moment to look up and admire his lover as well. Mickey gave the slightest nod, hands travelling up to grasp at Ian's shoulders before the redhead began pulling back to sink into him again, slow and soft and, fuck, it was sweet and hot and Mickey felt like he was gonna burn up from the inside out with the way that Ian was looking down at him.

He'd never get tired of the way Ian looked at him. Like he was good, and perfect and pretty and all of the other shit that spilled out of his lovers mouth when he was between Mickey's legs. It was moments like this that made Mickey almost believe it. Made him want to believe it.

Then the brunette lost all ability of rational thought when Ian's perfect fucking cock finally found that spot inside him that made him see stars. He clutched tighter at Ian, moaning brokenly.

"Yeah?" Ian breathed, grinning down at him as he aimed his thrusts perfectly, lighting Mickey up from the inside. "Right there baby?"

"Yeah. Yes. Fuck, Ian." Mickey whined, knees pressing on either side of Ian's ribs now as he folded himself nearly in half to get more of Ian inside.

"Look at you. Fuck. Absolutely fucking perfect. Takin' it all for me and you still want more don't you, honey?" Ian teased, nipping at Mickey's quivering lower lip. "Yeah. You don't gotta say anything. I know how sweet and dumb you get when you're full. Can't even think straight can you? You get so fuckdrunk that you can't even talk. Sweetest goddamn thing I've ever seen, Mick," Ian kept on, whispering those sweet, dirty things to Mickey that would make him blush later but at the moment they made his breath hitch and his cock absolutely _ache_.

Mickey just whined and shook beneath him, short nails digging little crescent moons into the meat of Ian's shoulders. He dug his heels into the small of his lovers back, spurring him deeper, harder until Ian was just fucking pounding him into mattress until he was practically screaming.

"That's it," Ian encouraged him with a harsh nip beneath his jaw, soothing it with his tongue while pulled Mickey harder onto his cock with a strong grip on hips. Mickey hoped to god there would be bruises tomorrow. "Let it out, baby. Let everybody know how fucking good I give it to you. Let em' know you're mine."

How could Mickey _not_ do that?

He didn't really have a hold on the sounds spilling from him. He couldn't hold them back if he tried.

And he didn't want to because the louder he got, the harder Ian fucked and somehow it was even better with his pretty dress hiked up around his hips to give his man easy access to what belonged to him.

Fuck, Mickey was so glad he wore this fucking dress today.

"Ian," he warned, breathless as he clawed desperately at Ian's back. "Ian. I'm gonna come."

"Fuckin' do it then. Come for me sweetheart. Lemme see," Ian goaded, slamming into Mickey's sweet spot over and over an over again, panting and sweating above him.

That's all Mickey needed and he was coming, tossing his head back with a whine as he shook and spilled, hot and fast all over his stomach. His thighs shook. His fucking teeth chattered he came so hard.

Ian barely held off just long enough to watch Mickey fall apart until he was driving home one last time, stilling to spill deep within him, a hot rush of desire that made Mickey moan weakly beneath him, spent and sated.

Ian fell forward, pressing their foreheads together while they came down and caught their breath, both faintly shaking, clutching desperately at each other.

They lay there for an infinite stretch of time just breathing into each other's mouths with Ian still buried deep inside Mickey, hands roaming soothingly over each other as their breathing evened out and the sweet and come between them began to cool.

Mickey groaned, shifting uncomfortably at the feeling of his dress sticking to him.

Ian groaned at the _sight_ of Mickey's dress sticking to him.

"I think you might've ruined your dress," Ian teased, tugging at the hem of it.

"Oh _I_ ruined it? Right. Mhm." Mickey rolled his eyes, slapping Ian's arm playfully.

Ian just grinned, devilish and sweet as he hauled Mickey up into his lap as he sat up. Mickey whimpered at the feeling of Ian shifting inside of him, pawing at the redhead's chest weakly.

"Don't worry. We'll buy you some new ones."

"You fucking better," Mickey grumbled against his lips in a sweet, soft kiss.

He was gonna make Ian buy him the prettiest dress he could find for ruining his favorite one.


End file.
